


Rabbit Hunt

by Sinistretoile



Series: Partners [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: Blood and Violence, Criminal Tom Hiddleston, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Jaguar!Tom - Freeform, No Sex, Pit bull Tom, Prostitution, Sexual Tension, Song fic, Tom is her attack dog., Torture, Villain Tom Hiddleston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to see these two in action, to see how well their partnership worked.</p><p>Also, the song in Thomas's office is Gloria Lynne 'Speaking of Happiness' and the song in the car is Fiona Apple 'Shadowboxer'.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Rabbit Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see these two in action, to see how well their partnership worked.
> 
> Also, the song in Thomas's office is Gloria Lynne 'Speaking of Happiness' and the song in the car is Fiona Apple 'Shadowboxer'.

Amelia's shoulders and hips swayed to the horn heavy do-whop song. The ice cubes clinked in the tumblers as she sauntered through Thomas's office. Tom looked up from his laptop and smiled.  
"You look unbelievably sexy my shirt, darling." He took the glass she offered and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap. "Especially when that's the only thing." He nuzzled his face into her neck.  
"Business good, mon chevalier?"  
"Fantastic." He tucked her hair behind her ear then kissed it. "I'd love to show you more. If you are willing to share."  
"Tit for tat?"  
"Tit for tat." He grabbed her breast and squeezed it then began to knead it. She sighed and leaned back, sipping the Jameson on ice. "If you're willing."  
'Or is it right before my eyes  
Like a blessing in the skies  
Speaking of happiness  
Why don't we try it one more time.'  
"'Speaking of happiness', mon chevalier," Amelia kissed his ear lobe. "I want you to take me on a drive this weekend."  
"This weekend?"  
"Yes, Thomas. This weekend. Down to South Hampton. I need to check on one of the houses and I'd like to get you away from business." Her fingertips smoothed down his bare pectoral. She flicked his nipple, giggling when he flinched then smirked.  
"But visiting a house IS business, ma reine."  
"It's only to do a walk through and check the books."  
"And that is all?"  
"That. Is. All." She rotated her hips against his lap with each word.  
He took a deep breath and let it out slow. She knew just how to tease him and distract him. He shifted her to sit squarely on his lap. "I'll go with you. But you must spend the night with me tonight. No rushing off when we've tired each other out." He reached around and unbuttoned the shirt. The backs of his fingers rubbed her belly up and down. The shirt fell off her shoulder. His lips pressed to her neck, where her neck joined her shoulder, across her shoulder. He cupped both her breasts.  
"Are you asking me to stay the night, Thomas?"  
"Yes, Amelia, I am."  
She became carefully still. It almost felt as if she were holding her breath. He began to second guess himself. Maybe he'd pushed the limits of their affair too far. "Word will get around if the boss is sleeping with her attack dog."  
"Please, ma reine, there are very few people who don't know we're an item."  
"This makes it official."  
"Official, does it? And what were we before?"  
"Unofficial?" He cupped her pussy and lifted his hips, pressing his hard cock into her ass. "Just fucking?"  
"Mmmmm, I like it when you say that."  
"That we're fucking?" Their bodies rocked together.  
"Yes, ma reine, that we're fucking." He breathed against his ear, nipping her earlobe. "That we're officially an item. Stay the night, Amelia."  
She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, giving him more room as he licked and sucked and scraped his teeth along her neck, sending shivers through her and pulling her nipples tight.  
"I'll stay the night, Thomas. You come to South Hampton. And we'll see where this takes us."  
"You're the boss." He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades. His mouth opened in anticipation. "God, I want you."  
"Good, mon chevalier. Good."

The sun shone bright and lovely on that Saturday afternoon. Amelia sat in the passenger seat with her knees drawn up to her chest, bare feet resting on the dash. Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera lay open against her thighs. She lifted the to go cup, bringing the straw to her lips.  
"Baby, can you please get your feet off my dash?" She wiggled her toes.  
"You like me barefoot."  
"I like you in heels too."  
"My heels will scuff the dash."  
His hands twisted on the steering wheel. "You, my darling, take silly allowances with our relationship." Thomas laid his hand on her thigh. His fingers traced slow circles on her sun-warmed flesh. "You know how I feel about my car."  
"Almost how you feel about me." He frowned. "Pull over, Thomas." The Jaguar rolled to a stop alongside the road. He didn't let go of the steering wheel. "You care for me, mon chevalier. I know. I see it in your face, in your eyes. We don't just fuck anymore. We make love."  
"What are you saying, Amelia?"  
"You know what I'm saying."  
"Yes, I care about you."  
She felt the tears sting her eyes but wouldn't let them gain strength. "It'll all end in tears, love."  
"Maybe." He turned to her, cupping her jawline. "But until then we can have something good."  
"We're not good people, Thomas. Do we deserve something good?"  
"Yes." His eyes searched her face, his thumb caressed her cheek. "You do. Maybe I do." He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her tenderly. Their foreheads pressed together, noses brushed back and forth then lips, back and forth.  
Thomas put the Jaguar F-type in gear and started down the road once more. His fingers laced with hers and their hands rested on her thigh. Fiona Apple's throaty musings filled the coupe. Amelia sang along with it.  
"You made me a shadowboxer, baby. I wanna be ready for what you do. I've been swinging all around me cause I don't know when you're gonna make your move."

The valet opened Amelia's door. The setting sun blazed on the horizon. Her bare leg stretched out the door then clicked on the cobbles. She ducked under the door frame then stood to her full height. She adjusted her sunglasses on her nose then scanned the block. All the security measures were in place. The valet closed her door then went around to take Thomas's keys.  
"If it comes back in any other condition, I'll kill you."  
"Yessir." Thomas set his fingertips against the small of her back. She climbed the steps one ahead of him. The door man opened the door for them and nodded to Thomas. They walked through the foyer to the madam's office.  
"Ms. Montgomery!"  
"Olivia." They air kissed on both cheeks. "I'm just here for the monthly walk through and to check the books."  
"Of course, ma'am." The petite brunette waved over the guard at the door. "Get Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Hiddleston anything they need." The madam logged into her computer then vacated her seat. "I'll have the girls in the den for your inspection."  
"Very good, Olivia."  
Thomas stood on the other side of the desk while Amelia clicked and tapped away on the computer. He clasped his hands on the small of his back. His eyebrow rose when her face screwed up into a frown.  
"What is it, ma reine?"  
"One of the girls was attacked last night. By a regular client." She read through the doctor's notes and the police report. "Olivia!" The door opened a moment later.  
"Yes, Ms. Montgomery?"  
"Where's Jane?"  
"She's resting."  
"This Marcus? I want him here. Now."  
"Ms. Montgomery, he's a business man. That might prove difficult."  
"I am a business woman. Send a car around to him. Now. If he isn't here within the hour, Thomas and I will pay him a visit to his home. I'm sure Mrs. Marcus and the little Marcuses wouldn't enjoy that."  
"Yes, ma'am."  
Amelia stood from the office chair and smoothed her dress. Thomas took his position at her side. His fingers skimmed down her spine. "Are you alright, ma reine?"  
"No, mon chevalier."  
The pair of security guards opened a set of French doors into a luxurious den. Nine stunningly beautiful girls sat posed around the room. Thomas's nostrils flared. Temptation in living, breathing succulent color. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, a lady of the night with coal black hair and even one who had no hair at all. He swallowed. Was she testing him? Seeing if his body was hers to command or if it would respond like any healthy man's would.  
"Ladies, you all look lovely. You're the picture of health and breeding. And you're splendid earners. I'm allowing Olivia to give you all a week vacation." Amelia took Thomas's hand and brought his palm to her lips. His face remained impassive but his eyes softened. Test or not, he passed. "Care to walk with me?"  
"Of course." She held his hand as they meandered through the house. All the rooms were clean and organized, decorated tastefully. "Amelia?"  
"Jane is one of my hand picks, Thomas. She started in London. We were flat mates once. I brought her into the business to keep her clean and straight." She swallowed. Her voice dropped low. "The things he did to her." They stopped outside Jane's door. "Thomas, I know I said the walk through and checking the books was all, but I'm going to make him pay, mon chevalier."  
"You don't have to do this."  
"Yes, I do." Thomas took her hands in his and raised them to his lips. He met her eyes with an intensity that frightened them both. But they'd never tell.  
"I'm your pit bull. Your attack dog, my sweet girl. Let me do it."  
Amelia disappeared into the door. Thomas stood guard outside. He heard the two of them softly talking then crying just as soft. His jaw set. He tried extremely hard not to grind his teeth. He hated her seeing like this. It was unacceptable.

You do things for the people you love. Things you wouldn't normally do. Or maybe things you would do but don't, then something shifts and you do them in a heart beat. Amelia sat on the work bench, her crossed legs dangling in the air. She held the bolt cutters in her hands, tapping it against her palm.  
Thomas unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He watched Amelia lick her lips and eat up the slow motion. His gaze traced up the lines of her legs. He wanted to get this done so he could take her back to the hotel and have those slender limbs wrapped around his waist, his head. He met her eyes and let her see what awaited them. She raised her eyebrows and shifted in her spot. He enjoyed getting to her.  
They didn't break eye contact as she spoke to the man tied to the chair in the middle of the house's garage. "Do you know why you're here, Marcus?"  
"In this garage? No. No not really. I'm usually IN the house. Are you new? Is this your kink?" He smirked, not grasping the gravity of the situation. How could he not?  
"I'm Amelia Montgomery. This is my house. And my kinks are none of your concern. What is my concern is Jane."  
He scoffed, twisting his wrists in the zip ties. "What that little bitch tell you?" She didn't even need to signal. Thomas balled up his fist and hit Marcus at an angle across the face. "Fuck!"  
"Do not talk about Jane." Amelia twisted the bolt cutters in her hands. Her jaw clenched. She fought not to throw them at the man's head. "Thomas, hit him again. Harder."  
"Yes, ma reine." Thomas went to work on the man tied to the chair, pummeling his face and gut. "Good enough?" Amelia slid down off the bench. Her heels clicked in the quiet garage, the man's sobs the only sound.  
"Good enough." Amelia kissed Thomas's cheek. A soft brush of lips against his sharp cheek bone. He closed his eyes, taking the gentle reward. "How are your hands, mon chevalier?"  
"No worse than last time."  
She nuzzled his cheek. "Clean up your hands, I'll take it from here." Amelia walked around Marcus. Thomas watched her. She stalked her prey like lioness. The bolt cutters tapped against her palm. Her movements pure poetry around the bleeding, sobbing man. "You think because your money buys you pussy it allows you to abuse my girls?" She clicked her tongue. "If you like pain, I've got girls for that. Only, Marcus, you like pain that's a bit too real."  
Thomas wiped his hands on a shop towel as he walked up behind her. "Ma reine, I can do this." His hands fell naturally to her waist. His chest pressed to her back, a solid, assured warmth.  
"I know you can. So can I." Amelia sat on Marcus's lap, facing away from him with her legs on the outside of his. "I'm telling you now. I'm taking these two fingers." She caressed the pointer and middle finger on his right hand. "They were the last thing to give Jane pleasure before you violated and mutilated her. I think it only fitting that she have them." Marcus bucked and flailed.  
"You can't! How will I explain to my wife?!"  
"I don't know. Nor do I care." Amelia tightened her thighs around Marcus's, putting all her weight on them. "Thomas, be a peach and hold his hand for me."  
"Of course, Ms. Montgomery." Using her surname let her know he wasn't happy. He wanted to do this for her. It was his job as her partner to do the dirty work. He understood she needed to appear strong to those who would exploit any weakness. But once they became partners, she didn't need to get her hands dirty. That was his job. And he delegated most of the dirty work to the underlings, because a gentleman doesn't get his hands dirty unless he needs to. Now was one of those times.  
Thomas held the hand down to the chair arm. Amelia opened the bolt cutters and placed them on his pointer finger. Thomas met and held her eyes as she put pressure on the cutters. Marcus flopped and flailed, screaming and cussing a blue streak.  
The blades cut through the flesh easier than she figured they would. Blood spurted onto the chair arm and the floor. She pursed her lips and clenched her jaw. She squeezed the bolt cutters harder and felt as well as heard the bone crack. Marcus bucked and bounced the chair despite her weight on him. Thomas's nostrils flared. He couldn't deny seeing her like this did things to him.  
"I'll do the next one."  
"I can do it, Thomas."  
"I know you can. So can I. I'm your attack dog. Let me attack." He gently took the bolt cutters. Once more, Thomas met and held her eyes. He set the bolt cutters on the middle finger and jerked them closed. Marcus's shriek renewed.  
Amelia stood up slowly and walked toward the door. "I'm famished. Let's grab dinner."  
Thomas wiped his hands on another shop towel. "What ma reine wants." Thomas unrolled his sleeves then buttoned the cuffs. He could tell by her body language that they wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon. He slipped the suit jacket on and moved up behind her. His hand rested on her thigh, the length of his body pressed to hers. "And what does ma reine want?"  
Amelia turned slightly and leaned up. "You, mon chevalier. Only you." His free but bloody hand wrapped around her throat. Their eyes met and in the moment, he knew she loved him but wouldn't admit it herself, or to him. Not yet.  
"My darling, your pulse is rabbit fast." His eyes searched her face then met hers once more. They shared a knowing smile. "This pit bull likes hunting rabbits."


End file.
